


Softer Now

by sidekicks



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:36:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5683513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidekicks/pseuds/sidekicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce and Julie don't enjoy the holidays, but they're together, so it's okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Softer Now

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how any of this happened.

Julie always thought holidays were mostly awful, what with the gun-running father and the inevitable conversations about his misdeeds that tore their family apart. She wasn’t especially concerned about the ritual turkey or awkward family gatherings and would rather just… not. Bruce wasn’t too keen on the idea either, though Alfred seemed anxious to cook a proper meal for them, the mother-hen that he was, and had found an excuse in the holiday to be sure that they were fed and watered to his satisfaction. They sat around the table, the three of them, and laughed, sharing jokes and stories of the children Bruce and Julie worked with. Alfred seemed more at ease than Julie had seen him be since she had returned to Gotham, thought a bit of sadness broke through his smile. It was the closest to family she’d felt in a while and it felt… good. Surprising and a little confusing, but good. She was… happy. 

“Did you know Alfred hates turkey?” Their dinner was done and Alfred had gone, leaving them to relax, tangled together on the couch by the fire. Bruce’s fingers threaded through her hair, catching on the knots here and there. “But he always makes it the same way my mother did. I think. I… I don’t know for sure, but its right there at the edge of my memory, you know.” 

Bruce looked conflicted, and a little far-off, and Julie thought maybe he was looking for the memories he’d lost. “Don’t force it. You’ll never remember anything that way.”

“I told Alfred that I don’t want to know.” Bruce said, still concentrating on something not there. “And I don’t. But Alfred hates it. He doesn’t understand that I’m okay not being that angry kid anymore, even if that means not knowing how I got my scars or how in the world I can benchpress a couple hundred pounds without a problem.” 

Julie huffed a laugh and traced one of the scars on Bruce’s collarbone, “Alfred just misses you, Bruce.” She fingered at the white lines around his neck. “And while the scars are a little scary, honestly, I can’t complain about the muscles.” Julie shifted onto her knees, straddling Bruce’s thighs, hands on his chest and giving a little squeeze to his pecs. “I really, really can’t complain about them at all.”

Bruce looked confused for a moment, but laughed and his hands found Julie’s hips easily, giving them a squeeze of their own. Their hands wandered, slowly, just mapping the other’s body and enjoying the feel of another person. Julie imagined Bruce had little experience with intimacy. Sex, sure; Bruce Wayne the billionaire would attract women and men from miles around, but true intimacy? It was a limited experience, she was sure. This Bruce was softer than he was at twenty-five. Now, a full-grown man with strength she had never seen before and a vast intelligence she knew was hiding behind the wall that held his memories, she wondered how one man could change so much in ten years. 

“Where did you go, Julie Madison?” Bruce’s voice broke through her thoughts. He looked concerned and she felt bad for worrying him. 

“Right here, Bruce. You’re a work of art, did you know that? I could paint you a million times and it would never be perfect.” She smiled down at him. He smiled back and rubbed along her back, pulling her into a kiss, slow and tender. He traced along her tattoos with one hand and cradling her face with the other, tangling his fingers in her loose hair. He pulled back, suddenly, still holding her close, and whispered, “There’s no other work of art but you, Julie Madison.” 

Bruce was softer, now, than at twenty-five, and they both missed the ten years between him climbing to her dorm window and now, but Bruce was happy. He whispered “I love you” between kisses and she quoted cheesy romance manga in return. No matter what was waiting for them behind the wall that held his memories, they were happy.


End file.
